


Once Upon a Time

by Ifyouthknew



Series: Earth's Rambunctious Children [1]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Pride Parades, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifyouthknew/pseuds/Ifyouthknew
Summary: Juliet, the tactful bright young lady discretely brings her two dear friends a surprise gift. Shawn is over the moon, yet Lassiter wants to say "No, thank you." Will they find common ground? How can two people with such distinct natures stand by each other when the bubbles are gone?
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Series: Earth's Rambunctious Children [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109414
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Once Upon a Time

A year into Shawn and Lassiter’s relationship, Santa Barbara welcomed a Pride parade of its own. Despite the coastal city being inside California and its closeness to Los Angeles and San Francisco, few people had bothered to think about throwing a party for the little town with only a small population of about 86,000. By few people, it meant the government and large corporates.

Until the year of 2010, of course, when one policewoman was bored out of her mind being one of the local escorts for the governor of California who came to tour the US riviera.

On the meadow of a golf course of which no end could be seen, she asked, “Say, Governor, why isn’t there a Pride parade in Santa Barbara. Look at the width of the roads and space everywhere, some would say it’s a great place to host such an event.”

“O’Hara, is it?”

“Yes, sir.” Juliet smiled, which was unfitting to her black shades and black suits, not to mention the deadpans of her colleagues who were all wearing an earpiece. She had personal reasons. If not for her two friends who had just celebrated their one-year anniversary, who persevered in spite of their distinct natures against all odds, she wouldn’t have chatted with a politician voluntarily. And golf always irked her.

Personal reasons were a great cause, she decided. It was a long shot anyway and she had nothing to lose. She was nobody and there was that Santa Barbara Mayor Powell frantically batting and squinting his eyes at her like he was having a tic episode.

“Are you all right there, Powell?” the governor asked in concern, his golf club halting in midair.

“Yeah, thank you for asking, sir. It’s just my allergy, you know. All these pollens…”

“The spring is coming to an end and the summer is just around the corner. That looks like something worth celebrating to you, doesn’t it?”

Almost everyone chuckled, including the mayor himself and Juliet who realized three seconds in that she was supposed to be contributing to the laugh track as well out of due diligence.

“You’ve never had a Pride parade in your city?” the governor asked Juliet.

“We have our very own annual Pacific Pride Festival,” Powell interjected. “They’re basically the same thing.”

“But that’s a local event. Nothing like the ones they have in San Francisco,” Juliet added.

“That’s because we’re not San Francisco!” the mayor hissed behind a fake smile that was still plastered at his face like a stubborn fly.

“Santa Barbara is a tourist attraction. A famous one, no less,” Juliet said, not backing down. “I just think it’s a pity we’ve wasted so many opportunities over the years to boost the economy and celebrating love at the same time.”

Powell opened his mouth to protest further, but the governor patted him on the back before heading over to his golf ball. “Just throw one, will you? Issue the permit, it’s that simple. You do need something on your resume if you want to get re-elected.”

“Oh, young lady,” the mayor sighed later, watching the governor took another unskillful swing that was followed by claps, “you have to bring me trouble, don’t you? Do you know how much effort it would be for me? Do you know how much funding we need or how many public transportations we need to halt? People will think I’m the one who wants to go against half of the city.”

“Glad I could help, sir,” Juliet replied brazenly.

* * *

“Lassie!” Shawn barged into Lassiter’s apartment, Chinese food in one hand, newspaper in the other. “We’re so going to this parade in couple costumes.”

“It’s not Halloween.”

“You’re right. No one will have many layers on anyway,” Shawn said without giving much thought, unwrapping the plastic bags. “Naked and unashamed. Though I’m yet to get the appeal of leather on bare skin.”

“Yeah, unashamed all right,” Lassiter snorted, throwing a dumpling into his mouth.

“What does that mean?” Shawn tilted his head up in challenge.

Oh, the million-dollar question— _what does that mean?_ Lassiter’s ex-wife had thrown out so many in their previous marriage to the point he had become an expert in de-escalating this sort of situation.

“Your word, not mine.” Lassiter shrugged. Experts were bound to slip one day. Or perhaps escalating was exactly what he needed right now after a huge fight with his meddling partner who just stormed out of his apartment because their words were getting ugly.

“I mean that in a good way. You’re being an 80-year-old peasant who has spent his whole life on a farm in Mississippi.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re right. That’s uncalled for. You’re being a 70-year-old peasant in Mississippi.”

Lassiter’s smashed his chopsticks against the table. Grunting, he buried his face into his palms in annoyance.

“Heimlich coming right up!” Shawn jumped off the stool, rounded the kitchen counter, and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend from behind all in one go. It only took mere seconds.

Before Lassiter could even get a word out, Shawn had already made the first thrust on his stomach.

“Lassie, is it out?” Shawn asked panickily, his cheek glued to Lassiter’s back, his arms squeezing the breaths out of him one time after the other, unrelenting.

Lassiter, being shaken by Shawn like a bottle of champagne, kept his focus on prying the locked hands away, his whole face red like ketchup. Too enthralled in saving his boyfriend’s life, Shawn was oblivious to the little movement.

“Is it out?! Answer me! Don’t die on me, Lassie!” Shawn shouted. He felt like crying at this moment, helpless and terrified.

Finally, Lassiter pushed Shawn away with all the strength he got and dropped to the floor. Stumbling to his feet, he dashed to the kitchen sink and heaved out all the dumplings he had stuffed into him minutes ago.

Shawn plopped down onto the couch and sprawled on all fours. He was huffing and puffing when Lassiter walked over to him, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. “What is wrong with you?! You just gave me a stomach pump!”

“Well, forgive me for having a rest after a life-or-death situation,” Shawn rasped wearily.

“It _was_ a life-or-death situation! I was alive and fine until you tried to murder me!”

“I was saving you. You’d be suffocated by now if it hadn’t been for me. And you just did that again—twisting my words and use them against me.” Shawn was peeved that Lassiter not only wasn’t acting grateful but also turned his fear of death into anger and took it out on him.

“Shawn,” Lassiter took a breath and said slowly, reminding himself he needed utmost patience when dealing with this particular man, “let’s be clear, I didn’t have food stuck in my windpipe, and I sure as hell wasn’t dying. I was frustrated that you couldn’t seem to grasp the horrible effects of those parades like I do. They give us bad names by making us look like oversexed monkeys who would hump anything in sight.”

“But Lassie,” Shawn propped himself up on his elbows, staring at Lassiter with pitiful eyes, “you said…I was an oversexed monkey the other night when I was…humping _you_.”

Shawn’s quiet whiney tone was like water to his fire, just enough for him to recant. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re, um, an adorable monkey.”

Shawn patted the couch cushion. After Lassiter sat down, Shawn threw his legs over his lap. “Lassie, here’s the deal, I’m not asking you to go with me wearing nothing but tight shorts. You can wear your suits and tie all you want. People would still drool over you but don’t you dare feel inadequate when other gorgeous monkeys are showing off their toned bodies.”

“The naked part aside—” Lassiter said, his hands sliding up and down Shawn’s shins mindlessly.

“I’m kidding,” Shawn interrupted. “Most people will be fully clothed, I guarantee you. I’ll give you a hundred bucks for each naked person you spot.”

“Even without any nudity, these events just make me…” he paused and gesticulated with his hands.

“Want to pick your nose and eat the boogers?” Shawn ventured.

“—uncomfortable.” 

“Everything makes you uncomfortable. Yesterday you said me ordering a crab made you uncomfortable.”

“Because you asked me to dissect it and scoop out all the meat for you in a public restaurant like a toddler.”

“Which you complied willingly and fed the crab legs into my mouth without any prompting. So what’s your point?”

“Where was I…” Lassiter looked up to the ceiling. Then it came back to him they had been engaging in a serious conversation before the crab talk. “Um, yeah, so I think Pride shouldn’t have existed in the first place.”

“Woah, easy there, tiger.” Shawn lifted a leg and gave the man spewing nonsense a light kick on the side. “Let’s just keep this between us, all right? I don’t want any side to overhear your bizarre, a little disastrous, somewhat horrifying political opinion. If they did, it might be the only time you’d hear me say you need more guns.”

“Will you just hear me out?” Lassiter grabbed Shawn’s ankle and shoved it back onto his lap. “It’s not political. It’s personal.”

“Oh, is this your my-private-life-should-remain-private thing again? It’s your fear for PDA flaring up?”

“They play a part, yeah. But what I mean is our private lives would be private if it weren’t political at all. Mr. and Mrs. Jensen downstairs have been married for over 50 years and no one has given a crap or batted an eye. I want _that_. That kind of anonymity to lead a life with as I wish. I don’t want a parade. I don’t want boos or cheers. I want _that_. I want this…” Lassiter pointed at Shawn then himself. “…to be normal in the first place.”

“We _are_ normal.”

“We try to be,” Lassiter said quietly, squeezing out a faint smile. “We assimilate. We’re asking for acceptance in a world that should be ours as well. We wouldn’t have needed such a thing if we had already been proud. Justice delayed is already justice denied.”

Shawn squirmed on the couch. What Shawn wanted when charging into Lassiter’s apartment was simple—a happy day with the man he loves when they could stroll hand in hand on rainbows while loud music blasted around them. But what Lassiter was asking for was a change in the entire human history.

“I could say the troops shouldn’t have existed in the first place,” Shawn found the courage to say. “Your stash of guns—”

“You shut your filthy piehole right there!”

“Am I wrong though? According to your reasoning, every fight is only a remedy, ergo unworthy.”

“I never said unworthy,” Lassiter said.

“Then why not fight? You became a cop to fight for justice, right?”

“Oh, please. Like you’re thinking about the greater cause. You just want fun and game.”

“Who says you can’t have both at the same time?”

“You’re so naïve.” Lassiter shook his head with a resigned look. He returned to their earlier point of discussion/argument/relationship suicide. “Are you really that much of a pacifist to believe the troops aren’t necessary?”

“I never said unnecessary,” Shawn defended. “I was making a point to rile you up. But now I think of it, I’d very much like world peace in the first place. And I’ll go a step further and say, even though you are deliberately avoiding asking me along with the troops, I don’t like your guns. Not one of them. Not even the one you carry to your work.”

“You’d like to see me unable to defend myself with my gun when a suspect is wavering theirs at me?” Lassiter’s tone was hurt and accusing.

“No. I want every gun to disappear so not _one_ would be pointed at you!” Shawn’s nose stung, he breathed in and out slowly to prevent him from going down the spiral. “I guess we both pick and choose our battles,” he muttered.

This was why neither of them liked deep talks. They would have a clearer understanding about the person they love for certain, but at the same time, this understanding tends to derail this person from the imaginary bubble their partner creates for them in whichever stage the relationship has reached.

Gus always said, “You gotta talk it out. Talk it out then everything will be fine.”

To this, Shawn called bull; Lassiter called the most outrageous and ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

They both knew their differences in personalities would come back to bite them eventually. Not many real shocking skeletons were revealed today, yet both of them felt a pit in their stomachs.

It is times like this that make or break a relationship. Do they cite ‘inconsolable differences’ now? Ignore their differences but stop doing it five years in or 30 years in? Or do they carry on despite everything for a simple reason only—

“I still love you, Lassie,” Shawn said after a stretched silence, dodging eye contact, lying on his back with legs propped up on Lassiter’s thighs.

“Yeah, same,” Lassiter didn’t hesitate to say. He sighed, squeezing Shawn’s hand.

“What should we talk about next?” Shawn teased. “Climate change? Affordable Care Act? The second one is way beyond my expertise. I’ll have to bring Gus as my backup. His company made him recite the whole thing, word for word, from back to front. No kidding.”

Lassiter slapped Shawn’s lap and huffed with a resigned smile. A moment ago, he was devastated about where their exchange would take them. “Let’s save those for another day.”

“Hey.” Shawn poked Lassiter’s arm with his toes. “What were we talking about again?”

“The damn parade. God knows who pitched the idea to those politicians. I’ll tell you one thing though, O’Hara seems to be beyond excited.”

“So…wanna go with me?”

Lassiter shook his head, his forehead furrowing.

“You look constipated,” Shawn said.

“I was born in the year of Stonewall.”

“I recall. You weren’t born in the Stone Age, so why are you constipated?”

“Can you imagine what it was like being a confused teenager raised in Catholic in the 80s when everything was just so damn chaotic?” Lassiter’s voice trailed away. He picked a piece of lint off Shawn’s jeans. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?” Shawn asked, knowing this was a trap for nothing even remotely funny.

“At that time, I thought I’d die just for having nasty thoughts about boys. I learned years later the first boy I kissed passed away in a hospital alone and in pain because his parents refused to acknowledge him as their son.”

“Geez…”

“So to you, the 80s might have been a time where you had your carefree childhood with Guster with all kinds of tacky flicks. To me, they were nightmares. Pride just—it just ticks me off. I don’t want to be reminded of those turbulent days. And I don’t want to be reminded that I have nothing to be ashamed of—I know.”

Shawn sat up and straddled Lassiter’s lap. “Doesn’t it remind you how far we’ve come as well?”

“It only reminds me how far we’ve strayed.”

* * *

In the park with a full view of the street, nestled under a honey locust tree in shadows was a gloomy Shawn, sitting with crossed legs and stirring the dirt with a twig. He didn’t come to the parade with Gus like Lassiter had suggested. He felt like being alone and having some time to sulk so he left Gus and Juliet to march with PFLAG on their own.

He heard someone approaching him from behind. “I have a switchblade and this spot is taken,” he said, not looking up from the softened and loosed dirt.

The intruder bumped his back with a knee. “You can’t take up a whole tree. Mind if I join you?”

“Depends,” Shawn said, the tinge of beams in his voice was obvious to deaf ears. “Is Mr. Uptight ready to live in the moment?”

“That I can certainly try.” Lassiter plumped himself down next to him.

“Who got to you? How do the red pills taste?”

“An old pal across the sea. I remembered he told me, ‘Those who never change their minds, never change anything.’”

“Huh, just like that? My words don’t work but his does? Should I be jealous of this guy? ’Cause he sounds way more urban than me.”

“I haven’t changed my mind, mind you. I’m just…giving it a chance. And you have nothing to worry about. He’s not my type.” Lassiter turned his head and kissed Shawn’s cheek.

Shawn gasped dramatically. “Is that a PDA I detect?”

“No one’s watching us but it counts if you feel like it.” Lassiter scrooched closer then laid his head on Shawn’s shoulder. The clamor of the march on the street became an ambiance to them engrossed in this moment. Haphazard footsteps pounding the road were heavy and lulling, but they could feel the light and chipper ones among them which were as remarkable.

Shawn took Lassiter’s hand lest he ran away in the next second. “Really, Lassie, why did you come?”

“I saw you walk out of my apartment building alone from upstairs this morning.”

“You realized poor Shawn would be so lonely without you.”

“I realized,” Lassiter corrected, “I’m letting you go to a battle on your own, no matter how pointless this is. I know things could never be that easy for me like they’re for the Jensens if I choose to be with y—a man—ever. So what I’m not dealt simple hands? I can always aim for the next best thing. I’ll play with whatever cards I’ve got.”

“You can always cheat.”

“Nah. No need.” _I almost have what I want right here._

Shawn picked up an earthworm with his twig and shoved it before Lassiter’s face.

With a high-pitched scream, Lassiter pushed Shawn’s arm away and shot up. The twig along with the earthworm was sent hurtling out of reach. “ _You_ motherfu—” he snarled, dusting his clothes in case they were invaded by nature unbeknownst to him.

Shawn got onto his feet as well. Leaning against the tree trunk, he crouched down and laughed himself out of breath.

_Yep. Just what I want—this sophisticated charming old soul._

“I know a guy too. He also told me something,” after regaining his composure, Shawn said. “‘Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.’”

“Your guy sounds just like an obnoxious douchebag like my guy,” Lassiter commented, curious why his I’ve—heard—it—both—ways Shawn had heard it right this time. He secretly wished he would only do so for him. “Wait, who’s your guy?” he thought he had better ask.

“My dad. Who else would it be?”

Lassiter opened his mouth, attempting to correct him, but he let it go in the end.

“You wanna join them?” Shawn looked over to the march that had been going on forever and had no end by the looks of it. He saw a young man who must have been no more than 15 watching them intently on the curb, a bystander to whom the scenery wasn’t the grand parade in the small town. His face was unreadable, although the middle-aged woman next to him was scrunching up her nose and flapping her arms, possibly pointing out all the obscenities before their eyes to him.

Shawn was about to wave at the total stranger when she hauled him away.

“I’m considering,” Lassiter answered, bringing Shawn out of his mind-wandering.

Shawn could hear the gear turning in Lassiter’s head. Whenever he is uncertain, Shawn has a chance. “You know what I’m thinking?” he started, standing abreast with the indecisive man. “I’m thinking you’re Head Detective Carlton Lassiter. Chief Lassiter in a few years, if the spirit isn’t messing with me. You have one of the most macho jobs in the world.”

Lassiter straightened his back slightly and puffed out his chest. It’s always endearing to Shawn how simple what this man needs is sometimes—pride, ironically. “Continue,” he prompted.

“You’re not fighting for a dead past, you’re not even fighting for a brighter future. But you better go out there and show those kids they could be a hero slaying dragons one day no matter what they are but because of who they are. Because you’re you, my darling, my champ, my hero.”

Lassiter huffed. Grabbing Shawn’s arm, he took long strides toward the parade. “God, you’re manipulative!”

“That’s my boy.” Shawn shrugged out of Lassiter’s grasp then slapped his butt.

Stopping on his track suddenly, Lassiter pointed a finger at Shawn’s face and warned, “There’s still a line. No groping in there whatsoever.” After a beat, he sighed and added, “You might as well grope. My career probably has reached its peak after this.”

Turning on his heels, Lassiter stalked off again.

Shawn jogged to catch up with him. “It’s like you’re going on a suicide mission. I second and condone. I secondone. Hey, I see Gus!”

Shawn was about to spring to his best friend’s side when they both caught sight of the bald guy in an abominable shirt behind him who was being tangled by ribbons. Juliet was dragging him to the side of the road all the while trying to free him.

“Mr. Spencer!” Juliet yelled. “You’re making this harder. Stop thrashing!”

Seeing the confused look on Shawn’s face, Lassiter said, “You seem surprised to see him.”

“No.” Shawn shook his head and let out a brief chuckle. “Maybe a little. I don’t know why I am.”

Jumping over the barricades, Lassiter and Shawn joined their family and friends and strangers who, naked or not, had roughly the same intention as them—one of these days, to be considered not as rambunctious children of the Earth but simply children.

“I still don’t see how this is going to get our marriage license,” Lassiter mumbled.

“Our?” Shawn raised his eyebrows.

Lassiter cleared his throat, his palms suddenly sweaty. “You know, these men and women.”

Wrapping an arm around Lassiter’s waist, Shawn grinned. “Just wait for it. We’re getting there.”

“We?”

“You know, these men and women.”

Strolling forward arm in arm, both of them allowed their unforeseeable common future to be foreseeable for a brief moment.

“Ha!” Lassiter exclaimed.

“What?” Shawn turned to look at where Lassiter was pointing. There was a stark naked man in front of a bakery.

“Pay up.”

“Tsk! That doesn’t count! He’s not even in the parade. Gregory’s been brought down to the station at least four times for public indecency already.”

“Pay up.”

* * *

The kid that got dragged away by his mother would meet these two lovebirds again eventually, under a circumstance none of them liked in particular. It’s hard to tell which side he was on or how many sides he had. But it’s safe to say, without him, the happily-ever-after of Shawn and Lassiter’s tale wouldn’t have been possible.

Mayor Powell got re-elected. His campaign manager said it was largely due to his willingness to take a stand on a certain issue, contrary to his rivals. Many thanked him personally via hand-written letters, which he buried under reams and reams of wastepaper unread, and e-mails, which were scanned briefly by his secretary and then closed, and votes, which he appreciated deeply on television in person.

He told Juliet he owed her a huge favor and one day she might wish to cash it in. Out of courtesy, Juliet nodded with a smile.

Years later when the memory had almost slipped away from her, when the night when everything in her life was about to be turned into ruin came, she picked up her phone and called in the favor. She only realized afterward it was a deal with the devil that she could never win, that her two friends were destined to fall victim to.


End file.
